But still, no one moves.
No one moves because we all understand what it means if we were to destroy another’s orb.
Death to that person.
We would cause their death.
There’s a lot wrong with our world, but I take a grim sort of comfort knowing that not a single person here, at least for now, wants to become a murderer.
Not even Norin.
My eyes lock on his. He’s standing as far away from me as possible, but he’s looking right atme,too. Almost as if he fears I might target him after everything that’s happened, and honestly, I just might.
I cock my head to the side. A silent challenge, but he only takes a small step back.
Coward.
I release a low laugh.
If nothing happens soon, if no one makes a move, we’ll all be advancing to the second round, earning a similar score in round one, meaning we’d be forced to set ourselves apart in round two.
Someone will do something. Someone will gather the courage and make the first move, the firstkill. At any moment, everything will change. It only takes one person to act in order for others to follow.
My heart pounds. Watching. Waiting.
I can feel Char off to the left of me, but I don’t look in his direction, even though I know he’s staring at me. He’s about twenty or so yards away.
And then, I see it. Out of the corner of my eye, a man lunges at a woman in front of him. With his orb held firmly in one hand, he shoves her to the ground with the other.
She screams as her knees hit the dirt. Her orb drops and rolls away. She scrambles on her hands and feet to reach it, and I swear, the entire arena holds their breath as it hits a rock in its path.
The orb cracks, and she screams again. Her screams only grow louder as two of the Enforcers, dressed in all black with sheathed swords, make their way over to her.
By the time they grab her, she’s delirious, and I can’t make out what she’s saying. She’s dragged away, and I swallow, because now…now the final trial has officially begun.
The arena descends into chaos.
Blood splatters across my face, but it’s not mine. It belongs to the man who just sprinted in front of me. Someone slammed a rock against the back of his skull.
Hearing footsteps approaching rapidly from behind, fire forms in my palm, and I spin, throwing the ball into the shoulder of the man who’s about to lay his hands on me.
He howls, an awful, shrieking cry, before running in the opposite direction, and I already have another fireball prepared, tossing it and catching it over and over again.
I am not weak.
But even so…ten men surround me.
Taking out an Essentari…it’s a fast way to earn a lot of points in the eyes of the trial coordinators.
Too bad it’s not that easy.
I recognize some of them as they circle me in slow, steady steps. They still wear the wounds Ryjax caused, and I’m sure they want revenge. They know he can’t help me this time. They know he isn’t allowed to come to my rescue.
Even the prince can’t interfere with the trials.
What they don’t know…is I no longer need him to.
I grin as my fire morphs into a whip, similar to the one I created in the throne room of the palace. Before they can react, before they canflee,I spin in a circle, slashing it across their ankles, and I can hear their skinsizzle.
